Though we’re not there yet, San Antonio finally is earning some barbecue street cred thanks to a handful of new spots. Non-Texans would visit and ask where they could get authentic, meat market-style barbecue. Not having any, really, we’d send them to Bill Miller BBQ, Grady’s BBQ and Rudy’s Country Store & Bar-B-Q. Not to disparage those places; they serve a purpose, and each one, seriously, has a special place in my heart.

For the really good stuff, however — I’m talking smoked brisket and handmade sausage being attended to by a single pit master — the best stuff comes from the countryside, and from Austin and Austin’s outskirts.

B&D Ice House, 1004 S. Alamo St., a joint venture between local chef Jason Dady and Steve and Jody Newman, is one of the new places introducing that rural-style barbecue to San Antonio. With pit master Chris Jerrick at the helm, laboring over the smoking process himself, the place is in real good hands.

His brisket ($7.25/half-pound) is reminiscent of those country places. On three visits, the slices were fork-tender each time. They had a perfect smokiness — not too strong, but enough to leave wonderful traces of the experience on your fingers — and the ring to prove it. A couple of leftover slices proved to be the best meal the day after my last visit to B&D, when I made tacos from them with fresh pico de gallo, holy $#!@ that was good.

Almost as tender as the brisket is the smoked turkey with its peppery rub. I’m not sure how exactly they keep the turkey, meaning how it’s stored after it’s pulled from the pit, but it was juicy to the touch. Though I felt, unlike the brisket, that the turkey needed a little bit of B&D’s sweet and peppery sauce to bring it all together.

Like Dady’s Two Bros. BBQ Market, there is some fanciness to the sides, as if to elevate those to the status of the meat. When I’m eating barbecue, I could give two #%^&@! about sides. At B&D, the barbecue beans, mustard potato salad and cole slaw are about what you’d expect from barbecue beans, mustard potato salad and cole slaw. The standout is the Green Chile Mac ‘n Cheese, which proves to be an excellent combination of creaminess and slight heat. For dessert, the strawberry cobbler is a must.

The lone disappointment was the Bar-B-Quitto, a burrito of bricket, a whole sausage, sour cream, mac ‘n cheese, and a bunch of other indistinguishable items. It’s clearly the novelty item, the menu’s buzz-creator, but it fails miserably because the tortilla is clearly store-bought, which has a certain chemically smell to them. Like when you smell them — sniff, sniff — they’re not natural. They are slick to the touch. Sniff, sniff. Bubble gum chewy, not bread chewy. And super thin. It engulfed a filling that had no reasoning to it, like half the menu was thrown in all willy nilly.

Like 95 percent of the new establishments opening in and around downtown, B&D is pricey. But, like I’ve preached before, prices are relative, not absolute. In the case of B&D, the brisket is worth the price because Jerrick is there constantly, personally tending to the meat. For $7.25 for half a pound, you can order the brisket, make a sandwich with the complementary sauce, add a side, and just drink water, and get out of there for just more than $10. You could probably take home some of that for leftovers. Do that with smoked turkey ($6.50/half-pound) and the deal’s even better.

As for the bar, run by the Newmans, I still haven’t brought myself to order a beer. Though the upper echelon on tap seemed to be fairly priced — the Buried Hatchet Stout for $5, and the Rahr & Sons’ Iron Thistle for $6, as examples — what are supposed to be the cheaper brews, Alamo Golden Ale for $5.50 and Branchline Amber for $6, as examples, are way overpriced. Except for special occasions, I can’t pay those prices with the Filling Station just down the road.

The ambiance is one of the best in all of downtown — it combines the open-air, rugged, bare-minimum plainness of an ice house with the comfort and authenticity of a real barbecue joint.